


St. Jude

by ronsparkyspeirs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Mental Instability, POV Steve Rogers, Resurrection, Steve Rogers Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7306474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronsparkyspeirs/pseuds/ronsparkyspeirs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wants to hate her. He comes close but it's not in him, so he settles for disgruntled dislike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson # 1: Don't Speak ill Of The (Future) Dead

 

He wants to hate her.

 

He comes close but it's not in him, so he settles for disgruntled dislike. He never laughs at her stupid jokes, he doesn't participate in her Friday movie night events that the rest of team seem so eager to attend, and he definitely does not engage in polite conversation. He’s not rude by any means, because some things are so deeply ingrained in his psyche that even his super soldier abilities can't fight; but time has made him hard and to a certain extent bitter.

 

Of course, no one knows this, except maybe Natasha but she stays silent on the subject. Steve plasters on his Captain America smile and goes off to defeat the bad guy of the week like a good little soldier, he's not sure when he became this way but it leaves him reeling. He was supposed to be good, he was supposed to be the man who knew right from wrong, but there he was, actively trying to hate a twenty-something year old woman.

 

She's always on her cellphone and when she's not on it she's listening to the most ear-splitting music Steve’s heard outside of Tony’s lab. And normally Steve wouldn't give a damn, if only she could plug in those earphones and listen to her music quietly like any sane person, but no, she just has to play it everywhere she goes; in the labs, in the kitchen, in the common rec area. She's loud and brash and pushy.

 

And Bucky would have loved her. He would have been taken by that red mouth and the filthy things that come out of it, Bucky would have taken her out dancing and he's sure that by the end of their third date, Bucky would have asked Darcy to marry him. Steve gets angry when he thinks about that, about this dame getting in between him and his best friend, let alone the fact that Bucky’s been missing since SHIELD fell and clearly not in a great state of mind. Then he thinks about Peggy, and how she would have respected Darcy so much, because she's honest and caring and she doesn't take guff from Tony Stark. He wants to hate her because she's a constant reminder of his past.

 

* * *

 

One Saturday night when he thinks the rest of the group have gone off to celebrate their day off he finds her and Clint in the rec room. There's a familiar sounding song coming from a little set of speakers set on top of the coffee table and he clenches his jaw so hard he thinks he might break a tooth when he sees Darcy and Clint embraced and swaying from side to side.

 

She lets out a full throated laugh at something Clint murmurs in her ear and Steve gets so irrationally angry at the sound that for a second he thinks he might be going crazy. Clint spins her around and catches his eye as Steve stands near the doorway.

 

“Hey, Cap,” the other man grins, and he sees Darcy blush red, she quickly lets go of Clint and goes to turn the music off.

 

“Don't let me interrupt,” he responds tightly.

 

“You didn't!” Darcy says, “Barton was just teaching me how to dance.”

 

Steve raises his brows and walks across the room towards the kitchen, he opens the refrigerator and takes what he came in for, a pint of cookie dough ice cream. He hears Clint’s deep voice and Darcy shushing him as Steve walks back in the room.

 

“We were just about to sit and watch a movie, would you like to join us?” Darcy asks, a hopeful tone in her voice.

 

“No, thanks,” Steve responds and when he watches the smile drop from her face he doesn't know who he hates more, himself or her.

 

“Come on, Darce, I’ll let you pick this time,” Steve hears Clint say as he walks away from the room. It's not guilt, it's not, he tells himself as he remembers the crestfallen look on her face when he had said no.

 

* * *

 

Days later he’s at one of the many cafes he likes to visit, sketching in a notepad when Natasha makes her presence known. The only reason why he even looks up from his drawing is because she's standing in his light, her expression bored but Steve can see the little twitch in her right eyebrow.

 

“Why are you such an asshole?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Obliviousness doesn't suit you, Rogers.”

 

Steve leans back in his chair and looks at Natasha, leveling a questioning stare her way.

 

“Clint told me what happened the other night.”

 

He can feel his jaw clenching, Barton could never keep his mouth shut where The Black Widow was concerned.

 

“I don't know what you mean,” he says.

 

Natasha slides the chair next to his out from under the table and gives him a tiny smirk, “You're a terrible liar,” she says, taking a seat.

 

“I just don't understand why you hate Darcy so much,” Natasha tells him, her cat eyes scrutinizing his every facial tick.  

 

He sighs heavily and leans back in his seat, “I don't hate her.”

 

Natasha shrugs, “She seems to think you do.”

 

Steve runs a hand across his face in exasperation, “Well I don't.”

 

Natasha smirks and Steve should have known she was up to something, “Good,” she says, “because I guaranteed your presence at the next team dinner,” she finishes her statement by leaning over and taking his coffee in her hand and sipping at the frothy concoction.

 

“Needs more sugar,” she says as she stands from her chair and walks away. Steve groans internally and slumps in his chair, aware that he must look like a child that has just been scolded, he wishes Natasha wasn't so meddlesome; he can handle his own issues, not that Darcy has become an issue, but still.

 

Steve picks up his coffee and leaves a big tip by the cash register as he walks out, determined to get out of the next team mission.

 

* * *

 

 

So of course the next time some evil scientist attacks Manhattan with an army of semi sentient robots, Steve is called upon. It's messy and by the time the entire team has laid waste to the bots, his face and chest have been splattered with what Steve hopes is motor oil. He's tired and all he wants to do is go up to his apartment and sleep it off but Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders and steers him to the commons room.

 

“C’mon Capsicle, I hear Lewis made cookies,” Tony says, smirking at the look of exasperation on Steve's face.

 

He can see Barton up ahead, signing furiously at Darcy, his hearing aids had gone berserk with so much electrical interference by the robots earlier.

 

“You have to share,” Darcy responds, and Steve is relatively surprised at the fact that she can understand Clint, apparently she learned ASL in the time she's been at the tower. Barton says something else and Darcy shakes her head, “If you would only let Stark upgrade your hearing aids, this wouldn't happen.”

 

Tony lets go of Steve and claps, “Finally, someone that truly understands my genius!”

 

Darcy rolls her eyes and turns to the industrial sized oven, pulling on a mitt she slides the trays of cookies out of the oven. It smells delicious and Steve reddens in the face when his stomach grumbles loudly at the scent, thankfully no one hears but Natasha. She raises an eyebrow in his direction and Steve takes a deep breath, if he doesn't at least try he knows Nat will make his life miserable for at least a month.

 

So he pastes what he hopes is a normal looking  smile on his face, only it feels like his lips are being stretched over teeth, but he walks around to where Darcy is arranging the trays anyways, “Chocolate chip?” he asks.

 

“What?” she responds, turning to look at him, eyes wide and wary; and really, he can't blame her for acting so surprised, he's hardly said five words to her the entire time she's been in the tower.

 

He clears his throat, and awkwardly points to the baked goods, “They're chocolate chip?”

 

“Yes! I mean, yeah, I figured you can't go wrong with a classic,” she says, shrugging, “they're still a bit hot, but you can grab one if you like.”

 

“Um, no thank you,” and with that, Steve turns and walks away. He feels like a child as he ignores the hard look Nat sends his way, but there, he spoke to Darcy, he doesn't hate her.

 

He returns to his apartment and eats Chinese leftovers, the whole time wishing he would have grabbed a cookie to taste instead.  

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha is thankfully sent on a long mission that keeps her out of the tower for an entire two months. Steve keeps busy with Sam, the both of them trying to dig up any leads on Bucky, he hardly even thinks of the girl the whole time. She becomes a person in the background; someone he nods politely to in the elevators, someone he holds open doors for whenever she's running into the labs, arms full of papers or coffee cups. Darcy smiles just as politely but doesn't try to strike up conversation, she jokes around with Tony, even Bruce and Sam informs Steve one day, “She's actually pretty cool,” to which Steve responds with a vague sound of acknowledgement.

 

One late night where dreams from 1945 creep up on him, Steve makes his way to the communal kitchen, which he knows for a fact is always stocked with those Belgian chocolates he likes so much. He slows down his walk when he sees the yellow light from the vent hood above the stove, he hears the low sound of music playing and his mother would have twisted his ear if she could see him snooping.

 

But Steve can't help it, that part of him that always went sticking his nose in where it didn't belong rears its ugly head and then he squares his shoulders because it sounds like someone is crying. Always ready to be the hero, he takes a couple steps forward and freezes when he sees Darcy. She's curled up on a couch just beyond the kitchen, facing the large windows that always make Steve a little anxious. She's not a loud crier by any means but he doesn't know if that makes it any better, Bucky would have raced to her side and pulled her in his arms, he would have murmured soft words until she quit crying.

 

Instead, Steve just stands there watching. Her shoulders shake and little sounds make their way from her throat, she sounds the way a child does when they lose their mother in a crowded supermarket. A little desperate and lost, he doesn't think it's right for him to witness such deep emotion so he turns around and heads back to his room without a single word.

 

He doesn't fall asleep till almost sunrise and when he rises, Darcy is in the commons, laughing at something Clint says. She doesn't look any different than she always does and Steve finds something very disconcerting about that, how she could go from a weeping mess to acting completely normal in the span of a few hours; in Steve's experience it always took a couple of days to get himself together after an emotional catastrophe. He realizes he's been staring at Darcy when Barton gives a pointed glare in his direction.

 

And he should really know better, you would think that after spending seventy years on ice and waking up in the future he would know by know that things never last, people become different and life changing events are a dime a dozen, especially in Stark Tower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Lesson # 2: Pretty Girls Make Pretty Graves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty girls make graves and Steve could have been free but fate is a cruel mistress.

He's about five blocks away from the tower when he realizes he's being followed. He slips into a small street way and sure enough, men with fake briefcases and a couple of women dressed in fancy pantsuits that look out of place on their bodies are tailing him, it's SHIELD all over again. He makes a run for it, intent on warning Tony and whoever’s at the tower, that the bad guys are very close and he's such an idiot for not taking his cellphone with him, it's just that Steve didn't think a Tuesday morning was prime time for Hydra to be attacking.

 

He runs inside the lobby but it's too late, gunshots ring out and then a loud explosion and Steve dives for cover. The sounds of people panicking and running are almost deafening, “Jarvis?!” Steve asks, and thankfully the AI responds.

 

“Mr. Stark has been informed of the situation, Captain.”

 

Steve raises his head from behind his cover and sees most everyone has cleared out, there's a couple of people laying on the marble floor, unfortunate people that were too close to the explosion.

 

“Captain Rogers, I believe Miss Lewis is in need of medical assistance,” Jarvis says, and it can't be Steve's imagination but it sounds something like desperation in the AI’s voice.

 

“Darcy?” he asks, and he hadn't even seen her anywhere in the lobby.

 

“She's behind the main desk,” Jarvis says. And Steve grimaces because he's halfway across the room, “Jarvis, am I clear?”

 

“For the time being.”

 

And Steve doesn't think twice about it because that's just who he is, he leaps up and runs fast across the floor, more than once slipping on the wet floor. He executes a near perfect base landing next to Darcy and he curses under his breath at her state.

 

There's a trail of blood leading up to her body, she had crawled behind the desk, Jesus, she's lying on her side, a large puddle of blood quickly pooling around her body. Steve crawls on his knees and gently turns her over, he sighs in relief when her glassy eyes focus on him. Darcy lets out a tiny whimper when he pulls her oversized sweater away from her body to assess the damage, “I’m sorry,” he says, gritting his teeth when he sees the two gunshot wounds, one to her side and the other a bit higher, near her ribs.

 

Steve gets distracted by the sounds of more gunshots, and the sound of Tony's suit. He tries to stand but Darcy tries grabbing his hand, “Please,” she whispers, a single tear making its way down her pale face.

 

“Tony!” he shouts, and before he knows it, Stark is standing near, his face plate going down.

 

“Oh Christ,” he says, softly, “Is she?” he asks, his eyes on the blood beneath Steve's knees, there's so much and it's disconcerting but Steve can't have Tony losing his shit because there is still a threat that needs to be handled.

 

“I don't know, but I can't leave her, do you understand?”

 

Tony blinks back tears and clears his throat, “Yeah, Jarvis! Have medical waiting for Lewis, she’s priority, do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes, sir,” the AI responds.

 

The face plate goes up again and Tony turns away, “The Widow came back early, and has been picking them off one by one,” he says, “so take her, the elevators should be clear.”

 

And then he's flying off, but now Steve has a job. He slides his arms beneath Darcy's body and even though he jostles her in his attempt to get a firm grip she hardly makes a sound. He stands and makes a run for the elevator, it opens even before he’s near and as he steps inside he hears the saddest words a person can hear.

 

“I don't wanna die,” Darcy cries, she's breathing heavy and her gaze is hardly focused anymore. And Steve, Steve who has lived through a war and his fair share of death has never felt so helpless before, maybe when Bucky fell from the train but he never heard Bucky cry out, he just fell and fell and all Steve could do was watch. But this girl in his arms, once so full of life and color and looking like everything he wished for when he was a sickly kid in Brooklyn, telling him that she doesn't want to die, it claws at his heart.

 

Steve doesn't even realize that she’s waiting for a response until he looks into her eyes, “You're not,” he says, with a lot of conviction he doesn't really feel.

 

She must notice his tone because she lets out a feeble laugh, her eyes shiny and red and blue, “Nat was right, you’re a terrible liar.”

 

“You’re breaking my heart, kid,” he tells her, and then the doors to the elevator slide open and the full medical staff is waiting and from then it’s a flurry of movement and noise and _Please Captain Rogers, you need to let us take her_. When Steve is asked later what happened, he’ll tell the team that he doesn’t remember, and Nat will look at him with those eyes that always see too much and Tony will pour himself a large tumbler full of scotch, and Sam will pat his back and tell him there wasn’t anything he could do. And then, and then, and then Dr. Foster will arrive with Thor on her heels and she’ll bring hell and fury down on everyone.

 

“Why was she down there?” she screams, her eyes are red-rimmed and Steve can’t even look at her, “She’s a lab assistant for God’s sake, what the hell was she even doing in the lobby?”

 

“She went to get coffee,” Bruce tells her, his voice calm and even.

 

“Why?!” she sobs, and she sounds the way Darcy did that night when she cried and Steve was too much of a coward to say anything, Foster’s hair is greasy and lank and he remembers hearing Darcy talk about how if she didn’t force Jane out of the lab, Jane would gladly forget to eat, bathe, and perform normal human functions. He wonders how the scientist will fare without Darcy now. She mutter something under her breath, and her eyes are wild when she looks at Stark, “You’re a genius, you can bring her back, you can find a way,” she says, and Clint hangs his head, he looks completely defeated and the next thing Steve knows, Jane is in front of Tony, her small hands gripping his weathered band shirt; white knuckles and dying sobs in her throat.  

 

“You can figure something out, _we_ can figure something out, Stark,” she says, desperately. Thor crosses the room and grabs her from behind, his own arms easily spanning her chest, he holds her close as Jane cries and as Tony looks on with a look that Steve’s never seen on his face.

 

“Why won’t you people _do anything_ ?” she screams, and Thor whispers something in her ear, his voice gentle, and then Thor is carrying her out of the room, a resigned look on his face. Steve can’t even imagine how the other man must be feeling, he’s known Darcy longer than the rest of the team, hell, he calls her his _shield sister_. He feels tears pricking at his eyes but then Tony speaks up.

 

“Someone should notify her family,” he says, his voice hoarse.

 

“Didn’t have anybody,” Clint responds, “her mother died when Darcy was eight and she became a ward of the state till she turned eighteen.”

 

There’s a long silence that follows and how could they have not known? She’d spent nearly a year orbiting their lives, arriving with Foster as a newly intern turned lab assistant. She was different because she made Tony laugh, and not his usual sarcastic chuckles, she befriended Clint _and_ Natasha, and he knows that even Bruce was prone to late night chats with the girl. But even after everything, Steve realizes that maybe Clint is the only one who bothered to learn about her. They took her for granted because she was just always _there_ , and now she’s not and Steve never even tried.

 

“Right,” Tony responds, “then someone should take care of--” he trails off, gesturing wildly, he means her funeral, Darcy Lewis’ funeral.

 

“I’ll do it,” Natasha says, and Steve knows this is her way of processing it, it’ll be the last thing she does for her friend.

 

One by one they leave the common room till all that’s left is Sam and Steve. It’s getting dark outside and the city lights are bright, she’ll never get to see the moon again, Steve realizes dumbly, she’ll never get to see--

 

“Hey, Steve?” Sam asks, interrupting his thoughts.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you maybe want to take a shower, change out of those clothes?”

 

“What?” he says, and belatedly looks down at himself. His shirt has turned a rusted color, he’s been sitting on the couch with Darcy’s blood on him, he looks at his hands and they’re red too, he stands abruptly and nods frantically, “Yeah, I should take these off.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day they bury her, in Brooklyn of all places. It had been her favorite borough, or so Natasha had informed them. She looks beautiful, peaceful and so goddamn gorgeous that Steve is oddly aware of how creepy he would sound if he said that out loud, but it's the truth. She's in a deep plum colored dress, something Jane had dug out of Darcy's closet, her curly hair fanned out beneath her, almost black against her pale skin. And ruby red lips, lush and shiny and he can't stop thinking about the way she looked as he held her in his arms.

 

She's beautiful and Steve feels regret gnawing at his insides.

 

They lower her casket and it’s eerily silent, just the sound of fallen leaves rustling in the ground. There's no priest because Darcy didn't belong to any religious sect and no one has prepared a eulogy because what is there to say about a pretty girl that used to be alive and isn’t anymore. A dead girl that baked them cookies and always had time for Tony's rants and Clint’s late night movie marathons, and who braided Nat’s hair when she went to the gym. A dead girl that Steve treated like shit because she reminded him of the things he used to dream of.

 

He feels numb and when they return to the tower the place feels like it's missing something already.

 

They walk to the common room and they can hear Darcy's voice, they step inside and there's a video playing. Shaky video of Darcy making faces at the camera, she crosses her eyes and cackles with glee when she hears a long suffering sigh.

 

“Come on, Lewis, you promised Foster a video,” Clint says, behind the phone.

 

“Alright, _dad,_ jeez, you're just as bad as she is,” Darcy says, amusement in her voice.

 

“She just wants to know you're doing okay,” Clint says softly.

 

Darcy grins, “I know.”

 

“Turn it off, Jarvis,” Tony says tightly, and the video abruptly cuts off. It’s odd because Steve thinks that Jarvis might have played it to make them all feel better, but it’s pointless really.  

 

Clint doesn't leave his room for three whole days after her funeral. The only person he allows inside is Nat and everytime she leaves, her eyes are glassy and her mouth is set in a firm line. Tony locks himself in his lab and works almost obsessively on improving the towers security system until Pepper flies in from California to drag him off to rest. Thor takes Jane to Asgard and Sam tells him that hopefully the distance will do her some good, but Steve knows for a fact that losing your best friend is the hardest thing to overcome.

 

He spends a lot of his time in the gym, going over what he could have done to save Darcy. Sam tells him over and over that it wasn't his fault, “Sometimes these things just happen, and there's nothing you can do to stop them.”

 

Steve nods but he doesn't really understand. She was innocent, barely twenty five, and brimming with life; why does he get to go on when he barely even tolerated her and she gets to spend the rest of eternity laying in a cold, dark grave. It's not fair and not for the first time does Steve start doubting God, “I couldn't stand her,” he tells Sam, his voice full of guilt and his stomach clenching with dread.

 

“You didn't know this would happen,” the other man responds, “I’m sure given time, you would have gotten to know her, it's not your fault, man.”

 

Steve sighs, “I guess.”

 

He thinks that if he had actually tried, Steve would have liked her. It doesn't make it better, if anything it makes the whole thing rotten. She's gone but what about them? The people she left behind, they have to carry on and go through life like she never existed because anything more than that and they'll be ruined, won't be able to function without guilt. And then there's him, the asshole who couldn't be bothered to say a kind word till she was in his arms, dying; Bucky would have saved her, Bucky would have held her hand and when she woke he would have kissed her.

 

But none of that matters because Darcy Lewis is dead and Steve Rogers is a fool.

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I have totally read your reviews and I'm so glad a couple of you have liked this simply because I have no idea where it's going and also since I NEVER write multi chaptered fics.


	3. Lesson # 3: Don't Fall In Love With Dead Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve obsesses and Darcy returns.

 

Steve spends his time with Sam searching for Bucky, and in the breaks in between he obsesses over Darcy. There’s no other word to describe his mad search for everything she left behind, he seeks Jarvis’ help and finds her facebook, her tumblr, and even her instagram account. He reads every entry she wrote on facebook, he listens to her music recommendations on tumblr, but more importantly, he looks at every single picture she took. Sometimes he lays awake in his darkened room, scrolling through page after page of what she left behind. She was funny, and beautiful, and clever to boot. Sometimes he’ll read something and it’s like he can still hear her voice, and even after Sam catches him one day and tells him that it’s not healthy to be so interested in a dead girl, Steve keeps doing it because he’s always liked to make life difficult for himself.

 

In a very abstract way, Steve knows that this is no way to deal with his guilt/regret. After coming out of the ice SHIELD had put him in contact with several psychiatrists and grief counselors, all whom told him that the past belonged in the past and there was no point in dealing with ‘what ifs,’ it was a sure way to drive yourself crazy and Steve had enough problems as it was. And now he's doing it again, but this time with a girl he barely knew. Tony gives him several weird looks sometimes so he knows that Jarvis keeps the other man in the loop, but Steve acts like he can't tell how creepy it is to be stalking a dead girl.

 

Bruce looks at him sometimes with sadness in his eyes, like he can't exactly condone Steve's behavior but he can understand. He's not an idiot, he knows it's not healthy but it makes him feel good. He relishes spending hours in bed getting to know Darcy, and if it doesn't affect his mission capabilities then who is anyone to tell him it's wrong.

 

Clint and Natasha went dark for a mission a little over a week after Darcy’s funeral, complete radio silence but Tony was doing relatively better, the dark circles under his eyes a little less and the gauntness to his face less pronounced; even if he gives Steve odd looks every once in awhile. Bruce is still quiet but he has a small picture of Darcy hung up on his lab, it’s by his laptop and Steve has seen him smile at the image more than once.

 

Yet it’s him, the one person who hardly spoke to Darcy when she was alive that now has problems getting her out of his mind. Sometimes he thinks she’s haunting him, that death turned her spiteful and now it’s his penance for not caring much for her when she was there. That's when Steve decides to cool it on the stalking, if you can even call it that, but then Ultron happens and as bad as it sounds, it's a welcome distraction.

 

He fights and saves as many people as he can, it's what he was made for, it's his job. It's familiar and for the first time in eight months Steve finally starts to feel like himself again, like a decent man who definitely knows right from wrong even if Ultron’s barb about needing a war at all times does hit a rather sensitive nerve. Steve shrugs it off and they fly back to the new compound in upstate New York, bright and shiny and new. He knows the team is on the verge of breaking apart so it's almost a relief to see Dr. Foster waiting for them at the compound.

 

It's a bit odd since no one had heard from the doctor since Darcy's death but everyone is still in a state of shock after Sokovia that no one notices the nervous energy surrounding the small woman.

 

But Steve does, and he knows that either Clint or Natasha would notice it too since they're trained just like he is but the mission had taken its toll. Foster is positively vibrating with something like anxiousness, they each greet her and for some reason she can't stop smiling.

 

“I know,” she clears her throat as they all sit in the main room, too tired to go to their own rooms just yet, “I know this is unexpected but, but I have a surprise.”

 

Steve can feel his heart racing, her grin is unnatural, not laced with malice but with something else, something he’s only seen once or twice in his life. He saw it in Howard's face when Erskine’s serum worked on his frail body, and he saw it again with Tony when he told them all about his new AI that he promised would save the world. _Oh god._

 

“Frankly my dear, I'm too tired for surprises,” Tony says, from his sprawled position on the couch.

 

“I think you're going to want to see this one,” Jane says, nodding, “don't go anywhere!” She tells the room and practically runs from the living room.

 

Steve looks at everyone and the only other person that looks wary is Wanda, her head tilts to the side and her eyes widen when Steve hears two sets of footsteps approaching the room.

 

He turns and _oh fucking hell,_ there she is. Darcy is standing in front of them, Jane by her side, holding her hand and grinning broadly at the dumbfounded room. It's deathly quiet until Tony finally breaks the silence, “What-what is this?”

 

“It's Darcy,” Jane responds easily, like she didn't just bring a dead girl into the room.

 

Tony stands and walks over to the pair, he forgets about personal boundaries and gets right in Darcy’s face, “The technology is amazing, you're going to have to share everything,” he tells Foster, his shrewd scientist eye, taking in every detail.

 

She starts to say something but Clint interrupts, his face closed off and angry, “Why would you do something like this?”

 

Natasha places a hand on his shoulder which he shrugs off, “How could you possibly think that making a _robot_ of Darcy would be a good idea?”

 

Darcy stares with a blank look on her face and Steve is starting to think that this is way more fucked than he previously thought.

 

“She's not a robot!” Jane exclaims and then Tony is reaching for Darcy but she flinches and Jane's grip on her arm is broken when she backs up into the wall beside her.

 

“Oh fuck,” Tony whispers.

 

The next few seconds are a blur of motion, Clint leaping up and making his way towards Darcy, Tony running his hands through his hair, Natasha looking on with confusion in her face, there's a lot of noise and when Steve finally tries to make his way to her, Sam places a hand on his arm.

 

He shakes his head and motions towards Darcy, she's pressed up against the wall, her hands covering her ears, she looks extremely distressed while Jane tries to push Clint away to no avail.

 

“Dr. Foster,” Steve says, trying to sound as commanding as possible but having to clear his throat before continuing, “what exactly did you do?”

 

Jane brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, her hands wringing in front of her nervously, “I-I brought her back.”

 

“How?” Natasha asks as she stands and Steve can see a familiar expression on her face, the one she gets when she's interrogating someone, it's harsh but Jane doesn't back down, the shorter woman lifts her chin and Steve is reminded of himself.

 

“Asgardian magic.”

 

“ _Dark_ magic?”

 

The room falls silent as their eyes fall over Darcy. The brash girl gone and replaced by someone who can't even meet their eyes. She hasn't said a word and it's more disconcerting than the fact that she's standing in front of them.

 

“No! Not dark magic, not exactly,” Jane says, she tugs on the sleeve of her flannel shirt and Steve can see how tired she looks, exhausted even and he wonders where Thor has been for her to have done a thing like this.

 

“Is she okay?” Clint asks, his eyes watery and pleading.

 

“Yes, of course! I mean, she hasn't exhibited any negative side effects, physically,” Foster responds.

 

“Then why hasn't she said anything?”

 

Jane sighs, heavily and resigned, “She doesn't say much, hasn't since, since she came back.”

 

If Jane looks exhausted, Darcy looks practically dead on her feet, and Steve almost flinches at the thought. The circles beneath her eyes are dark only serving to enhance the paleness of her skin, her full lips are hardly pink and she looks thinner, she looks broken and he curses, a hard murmured sound.

 

“I had to,” Jane says, “I needed her.”

 

No one responds, and it's finally Bruce that stands from his seat on the couch to walk over to Jane, “When’s the last time you slept, Dr. Foster?”

 

She lets out a shaky laugh, “Um, a couple of days ago? I’ve had some naps.”

 

Bruce nods and gives her a soft smile, “Why don't we get you settled into your room and you can get some rest while I give Darcy a check up, does that sound okay to you?”

 

Jane nods, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

 

Bruce turns and gives them all a meaningful look, Sam is the only one that springs up into action, he places a hand on Jane's shoulder and leads her out of the room. Bruce turns to Darcy and speaks to her in a low voice, the kind you use with a small child or with an easily spooked animal, “Hey, we're just going to head down to the lab okay? Get you checked out.”

 

Darcy doesn't show any acknowledgement to his words but she lets herself be led out into the hallway by Bruce. The rest of them follow and only Clint enters the lab with Bruce, he stands close to Darcy and gives her a smile anytime she looks at him. Bruce takes a couple of vials of blood and she never shows any sign of pain or discomfort.

 

“This is fucked up, this is so fucked up,” Tony says, as they look in through the lab windows, he runs a hand through his hair and starts pacing.

 

“We need to try and keep a level head,” Steve says, even though a part of him wants to lose his shit, he's still a leader and they need to find out a way to deal with this.

 

“Keep-Keep a level head?” Tony repeats, his voice rising with hysteria, “are you kidding me, Rogers?”

 

“Then how do you think we should handle it?”

 

“Foster brought a dead girl back to life!” Tony shouts, “she used _dark magic_ , Steve, you don't think that's a little twisted?”

 

“We don't know the details of what happened, we can't go on making judgments,” Steve tells him, but it only makes Tony angrier.

 

“She's not right,” Tony says, pointing a finger at Darcy in the lab, “you know it, and I know it, hell, we all saw her in there. Foster _brought her back,_ it's not natural and I can't stand here and pretend everything's just hunky dory.”

 

Steve clenches his jaw, “So what do you propose we do? Kill her again? Make it right?”

 

“I know you developed some weird soft spot for her but you can't let some displaced sense of affection cloud your judgement,” Tony says through gritted teeth.

 

Steve sees red and before he knows it, he has Tony by his shirt, pressed up against the glass wall of the lab. “Don't start,” Steve tells him but Tony just rolls his eyes. Natasha steps in between them and places a hand on Steve's chest to push him away, “That’s enough.”

 

Steve lets go and when he steps back he can see that the people in the lab are watching them. Clint and Bruce, with careful expressions on their face, eyes flitting from Tony to Steve and back but Darcy only has eyes for him. Her eyes a little wide and her mouth a little open, it's the first moment he’s seen her look a bit like herself. She hardly even blinks and Steve is so entranced he doesn't hear Natasha speaking.

 

“We need to keep an eye on her,” she says, “Darcy could be dangerous.”

 

Steve turns to look at her, disbelief in his expression, Nat rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh, “Or she could be completed harmless, but we still need to keep watch; Tony's right, who knows how the magic could have affected her.”

 

Tony looks smug for about two seconds before what Natasha said hits, the three of them turn towards Darcy and they should be feeling ecstatic at having her back, people don't get second chances, not like this. But even Steve can't deny that there is something very wrong in all of this; Darcy’s not the same and even he can see that, she’s like a ghost version of herself and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it.

  
She was gone and Steve felt regret, but now she's back and he thinks he can do things right this time, even if she's nothing but a living dead girl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Lesson #4 WARNING (Please Do Not Touch)

 

 

 

 

Living with Darcy is like living with a ghost. The team goes on missions, they debrief, they have team dinners, they rest and do it all over again, while Darcy hovers in their periphery like a phantom. She flutters from room to room, quiet with her sad eyes, she spends a lot of time in the labs, Bruce says it’s because it’s familiar, something from before she died; Steve saw her petting Dum-E one day and he thinks it’s good, a sign of her humanity. But more often than not she simply haunts the compound, Jane goes on like usual, she talks and talks and acts like Darcy’s listening, Sam tries a counseling session but Darcy hardly says two words the entire hour they’re alone in the rec room. 

 

Natasha takes to treating Darcy like a doll. She braids her hair and gives her pretty dresses to wear and only once does Steve say anything about it, “She’s not a toy,” he tells her one night, after everyone’s gone to sleep. 

 

Natasha gives him an icy stare, “I didn’t think she was.” 

 

“Then maybe you should stop treating her like one.” 

 

She tilts her head and for one crazy second, Steve thinks that she might strike him but just as quick her expression changes, she looks weary and despondent, “Did you know that a way depression can manifest itself is by forgoing basic hygiene.” 

 

“You think Darcy’s depressed?” 

 

Natasha lets out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know Steve, I don’t know,” and this is the most frazzled he’s ever seen the Widow look, “But I do know that Darcy spent four days without showering, I counted.” 

 

“And the only reason she’s been eating is because Clint makes sure to bring her food three times a day. Do you remember the lipstick she used to wear?” Natasha asks, a forlorn smile on her face. 

 

“Her lips were cracked and peeling by the time I got to her. I’m not doing this because it gives me pleasure, I’m doing it because she’s a person and maybe if she starts looking like one, she’ll start feeling like one.” 

 

Steve nods and steps close to Nat, he wraps his arms around her frame and pulls her in close. She doesn’t cry but Steve wouldn’t blame her if she did. 

 

...

 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asks, his voice low. 

 

Darcy stares at him for a while before nodding, Steve scrambles from his seat on the couch, pushing cushions off and away as he makes room for Darcy. She sits and stares blankly at the large screen t.v. “It's called Singin’ In The Rain,” Steve tells her. 

 

Halfway through the film, Darcy speaks up, her voice raspy from disuse, “I’ve seen this before.”

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“I had a foster mom, it was her favorite,” she says, and after a beat, in a near whisper, “I wonder if she knows I died.”

 

Steve stays silent and both of them sit there long after the ending credits roll. He's never been great at talking to dames, and really, what can he say to something like that. He wants to find the right words, and even though a part of him knows that just sitting with her is enough, Steve still tries to find the perfect thing to say.

 

“You're here now,” he says, after a long silence. 

 

Darcy turns to look at him and again he’s forced into stillness by her gaze. She looks like a child and an ancient being at the same time, her gaze could unlock the secrets of the universe if only he asked so nicely. Steve can hear his own stuttering breath, “Where did you go when you died?” he asks, the words falling from his lips without permission. 

 

She blinks, “I don't know, but I was happy.” 

 

Steve knows he stops breathing for a few seconds because his next inhale is loud and the oxygen rushing to his head makes him feel lightheaded. He hadn't even considered that, hadn't even thought about where Darcy had been, he like the rest of the team had assumed that she might be in a scary place, not hell but something like it. How could he have been so naive to think that the place she had been in could somehow be worse than the reality she has to face now. She had been  _ happy _ , for Christ’s Sake. 

 

Steve clears his throat and stands from his place on the couch, “I have to-- There's something I need to do,” he says and walks away from the room. It's not true, he just needed to get away from Darcy's stare before it suffocated him with guilt. 

 

He goes to his room and packs a small bag, intent on going to the upper state compound, it's peaceful up there and he suddenly feels like he's suffocating. He leaves and doesn't let anyone know until he's inside his apartment, he calls Natasha and tries telling her about Darcy but the words never make it past his lips. He tosses and turns in his bed that night, he can’t stop thinking about what Darcy said, about the way she looked at him. If what she said was really true, then how could Steve possibly justify bringing her back to life? Jane resurrected her and for a while everyone was ecstatic at having her back, if albeit a little wary but then everyone grew used to having Darcy around again. The shine wore off and everyone was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Darcy was not alright.

 

Steve doesn't sleep that night, and the next day he promises himself that he’ll be there for Darcy for whatever she might need. He can do that, he had failed once before but it wouldn't happen again. 

 

So with a smile on his face, Steve Rogers takes his bag of clothes and walks out of his apartment intent on getting to the tower as soon as possible, ready to be a good friend. He makes the ride on his bike, pulling up to the place only to walk in the front doors to find people rushing by him. Natasha runs by and it's only Steve's reflexes that have him grabbing hold of her arm, “What's going on?” he asks. 

 

Natasha seems just as harried as everyone else around him, “It's Darcy,” she breathes out, “she got into Stark's weapons and it's a code red, Rogers.” 

 

Steve slips into Captain mode and he gestures for Nat to lead the way, “Show me where she is.” 

 

He follows her across offices and empty corridors, the staff was being evacuated and only the rest of the team remained. They find themselves in front of Tony's lab, Steve can see Jane and Clint inside, Tony off to one side, frantically typing away on a complicated looking interface. He walks in and sees Darcy in the corner of the room, a bright yellow pulsing orb in her hands. Her eyes look lost and glazed and he's reminded of the way Bucky looked at him when they fought on top of the helicarrier. 

 

“Darcy!” Jane shouts, but the other woman doesn't even flinch, her eyes glued to the orb that seems to be turning erratic; the pulsing more violent and the light getting brighter and brighter. 

 

Steve has always disregarded his own personal safety and now is no different, he's not sure what the object in her hands does but it can't be anything good if even Stark looks pale and anxious. So he walks closer to her, like approaching a wild animal, “Darce,” he says, in a whisper soft voice. 

 

Her eyes glance towards him and she looks like a creature from another world, her hair wild and yet she’s so still, unmoving in the face of obvious danger, she has dark spots under her eyes that let Steve know she probably hasn't slept for days. “Why don't you hand that over to me, hmm?” he asks, motioning towards the orb in her hands. 

 

Darcy stares at him for what seems an eternity, her eyes big and unblinking, the yellow orb emitting a harsh light that leaves her looking sickly. Then without prompting she hands him over the crystal orb, casually, as if she were handing over a pen or a piece of gum, and not what Steve suspects is a weapon that could bring down the city if not the building at least. 

 

Jane leads Darcy away to medical and the rest are left to piece together how she was able to get her hands on locked down Stark tech. Accusations fly and fingers are pointed, mostly towards Tony. “Why was she in your lab?” Natasha asks, her eyes blank but Steve can see the slight tick in her jaw. 

 

Tony shrugs, “Sometimes she likes to come in while I’m working, I figured I’d let JARVIS give her access.” 

 

“How did she know about the orb?” Steve interrupts. 

 

“How am I supposed to know? Most of the time she comes in here she just,” Stark makes an exaggerated hand motion, “ _ hovers _ . I didn’t think she understood half of what I mumble at two in the fucking morning,” he says, exasperatedly. 

 

But somehow she did. 

 

After that, Darcy is watched closely. She’s not allowed out of the tower without an escort and JARVIS monitors all her activity inside, reporting anything suspicious to Steve or Natasha. Steve thinks it’s a bit much, it seems an invasion of privacy to have video of her sleeping, and what’s worse is that he suspects Darcy knows, but she never says anything on the matter. And Steve doesn’t say anything when JARVIS alerts him one night to show him live feed of Darcy standing in the middle of her living room at three in the morning, clad in nothing but a cotton camisole and a pair of panties that show off her bottom and milky pale thighs. It’s not anything suspicious but it’s unusual if her sleep patterns are anything to go by. 

 

The first time Darcy Lewis kisses him he’s just come back from a mission, sweaty, dusty, and a bit bloody. She’s waiting outside his door and Steve is surprised because she’s not the type to seek anybody out anymore. He reaches her side and Darcy simply leans up on her tiptoes and presses her soft lips to his, and it’s just that, a simple press of her pale lips to his.

 

She doesn’t say anything, simply turns around and walks back to wherever she’s going for the night. And Steve is left wondering what the fuck just happened.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more than a year later and finally an update. for those wondering, the orb Darcy held was something Tony was working on, a source of energy like his reactor but clearly volatile, it's not important to the story but I thought about it.


End file.
